I’ve had a chest cold, nothing very bothersome but it’s kept me close to home and in a pattern of activity and rest, activity and rest, which I must admit is to my liking. In summary, a built in excuse not to do anything I don’t want. Of course, I’d get tired of this if it weren’t for the fact that this slowing down has pushed me into a deeper desire, for and understanding of, solitude. I don’t need to be with friends all the time in order to know that we are there for each other. A occasional email or meeting offers the gems that keep us bound together; details aren’t as necessary now. I think of my mom in her later years. She kept up with friends though a card, a telephone call and perhaps a luncheon date, but she didn’t need the reassurance of continual contact. I just wonder if it was the same for them?